Christmas is quickly coming upon us — at least those of us who celebrate the holiday. True believers, and by that I do not necessarily mean believers in Truth, will have us know that this is the time when we celebrate the birth of their favorite martyr, Jesus Christ. They will tell you that the focus of this holiday is meant to be upon the deeds and messages of the Christ, and they will occasionally complain about the commercialized nature of the holiday. On that last point, I agree with them wholeheartedly. Too many people seem to believe that Christmas is about celebrating excess consumerism, branded marketing and petty indulgences. Yet the real meaning of the holiday isn’t exactly either of those extremes.
While it is generally agreed that Christmas, at least for Christians and their secular brethren, is a celebration of the birth of Jesus, it is wrong to call it Jesus’ birthday. Christmas is NOT the birthday of Jesus and there is absolutely no reason from either the Biblical text or any contemporary historical records to make that assumption. In fact, the earliest written discussion on the birth of Jesus doesn’t occur until roughly 200 years after his death, when Clement of Alexandria made an account of various dates proposed by different Christian groups at that time. The most important take away: while the months vary, it was long believed Jesus was born in the spring, though many scholars argue that he was born in or around September. Also of note is the fact that prior to the second century C. E., there was really very little apparent interest at all in the date of Jesus’ birth. That is because it didn’t really matter to anyone and, more precisely, the celebrations of birth anniversaries were considered by early Christians and Hebrews as examples of Roman paganism — a belief now shared by many modern day puritanical Christians.
Which brings us to the 12 days of Christmas, between December 25th and January 6th, when good Christian folk celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany. These two dates came into importance somewhere around or after 350 C. E., when western Christians chose the former date for the birth celebration and eastern Christians chose the latter. The western Christians mostly won out in the long battle between the dates, keeping January 6th as a commemoration of when the Wise Men were supposed to have arrived in Bethlehem. One might ask, why the flip-flopping? The obvious answer is, as mostly is the case with religion, that it was political.
In the early years of Christianity, there were A LOT of competing religions. And while at first the idea of a birth celebration may have been considered all but heretical, mores shift with the times. When the Romans began to adopt Christianity as their own, they had a lot of cultural reconciling to do. And because they wanted to broaden their reach (i.e., extend their power), it was important to embrace rather than alienate the cultures they wanted to assimilate. Thus, the religious and political leaders of the time (for they were often one and the same) looked at their own existing celebrations such as the winter Saturnalia (to honor the god of agriculture) and the feast celebrating the birth of Sol Invictus (the enduring sun) which, with no sense of irony, had been on December 25th since 274 C. E. All through Europe there appear to have been various pagan (or at least non-Christian) groups that celebrated various and often related feasts honoring the sun in December or January. Perhaps even more importantly, an older Egyptian festival celebrated when Isis, the Queen of Heaven, gave birth to a son. What better umbrella for inviting diverse cultures to unite than one holiday to join them all? Thus, Christmas was conceived largely as a melting pot, one which could gradually absorb and consume various belief systems and merge them into more of a porridge than a chunky stew.
It also makes sense, from a less cynical perspective, that early-ish Christians would have seen a parallel between celebrations of the Sun and the birth of the Son. These festivals often alluded to the coming spring, when life returns in the form of growing plants, and so the notion of birth is there from the outset. But it is not something that arises organically from any historical timeline or contemporary writings relevant to the actual birth of Jesus.
However one chooses to look at this, it is clear that the conversion of Constantine to Christianity brought with it a cycle of blending pagan traditions. Prior to that, Christians had been a persecuted minority that distanced itself largely from other religions. But Constantine brought Rome into the mix, and real power, which the Church embraced. Not quite a few hundred years after that, Pope Gregory actually went on record by encouraging that pagan celebrations be converted to feasts honoring Christian martyrs and existing pagan temples be turned into Churches.
Many Christian zealots today will encourage their fellow believers to stop celebrating Christmas altogether because of its pagan roots. Whether it is “really” a celebration of an Iranian Sun God or a heretical conversion of the Winter Stag God (hint: it’s Santa) from the venerable all-present Yahweh, the indication is that modern Christians are too stupid to realize that their kind-hearted attempts at spreading love and goodwill are nothing more than blasphemy.
That is probably not a fair assessment. Christmas sprang from roots in the northern hemisphere, where the shortest days of the year happen three weeks into December and winters (at least at the time) were mighty cold. Evergreen trees were a reminder of the coming spring, and the fact that the sun began rising earlier following the 22nd made people happy. If the sun had been sick, or was dying, then by the time it was noticeably better (let’s just say on the 24th or 25th) it was certainly time to celebrate. Add to that the fertility rituals which included holly and ivy, among other things that helped to keep folks of the day warm and in good spirits.
Yet, it is part of the American tradition of Christmas to squash the life out of the holiday’s true historical origins. Even as far back as the mid-1600s, Puritans rallied against the pagan customs of singing carols or decking the halls. There was even a law in Massachusetts that forbade celebrations on the 25th of December, though official church services were encouraged. We can thank the immigration of Irish and German folks with a broader sense of festiveness for changing this tradition, but not until well over 100 years of Puritanical solemnity continued to mar the occasion. The Christmas tree itself did not rise to global popularity until after the nineteenth century fashion icon, Queen Victoria, was featured in an illustration in the London News standing with her family around their own Christmas tree. In true sheepish fashion, High Society immediately adopted this tradition throughout Europe and all along the Eastern United States. And what was popular on the East Coast soon spread westward, because everyone wants to do the fashionable thing. Unless they are religious zealots, but even then they are doing what they perceive to be fashionable in their own context.
All of that aside, the best parts of Christmas could be attributed to entirely secular sources. Such modern additions as those provided by Charles Dickens and Clement Moore have brought a strong focus on the joy, wonder and, dare I say, even magic of Christmas. These elements may well go further toward the discovery and display of Christmas’ overriding message than anything sourced from religion. If the true “meaning” of Christmas is to spread love and compassion, it is the secular influence that makes this clearest of all. But when all of the details are examined and the history of the Christian religion is considered in full, Christmas has never truly been about the birth of Christ. Christmas has been about bringing people together and holding a joint (if evolving and wildly divergent) spirit in their hearts. Whether this involves the Christ child or not is more or less moot. He sits (or lies, mostly) there as a symbol in his cradle or in a bed of hay or wherever he is placed to focus our attention perhaps on his innocence or our own innocence that was and, if we are lucky, could be again.
Further Reading:
patheos.com link 1
patheos.com link 2